


Close to you

by yuuago



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 07:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/pseuds/yuuago
Summary: Iceland can't remember the last time he's seen Norway looking so exhausted.





	Close to you

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was Norway, Iceland - comfort - modern.

It wasn't very often that Iceland saw Norway looking like a frazzled mess. Usually, he managed to appear really put-together, calm and steady and unruffled, even when he had a lot on his plate.

That was why, when Iceland went to pick Norway up at the airport, he was surprised to find him looking completely exhausted, with eyes heavy from lack of sleep and his hair, usually so tidy, sticking out in all directions.

"Wow, you – uh. Hi, Norway?"

"'S good to see you, too."

Norway looked as if he might fall over right there on the spot.

Iceland decided that it was best not to comment on that. When Norway hugged him, he took forever to let go, but Iceland endured the embarrassment and let him do it. He _wanted_ to say, "You aren't going to collapse on me, are you?" Instead, Iceland gently pried Norway off, took his baggage from him, and held his tongue as they headed out to the car.

It wasn't until they were on the road to Reykjavík that Iceland decided to say anything.

"Long flight?" he asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the exhausted lump in the passenger seat.

Norway grunted, pressing his eyes shut. "Weren't only the flight."

"Oh?"

"Met with America. On business."

Oh. That explained everything. Both of them liked America on a personal level; he was warm and friendly enough, if a bit too energetic, and fun to spend time with in small doses. But Iceland had to admit that he sometimes found America exhausting – and that was even when they were talking as friends, never mind their international relations. Matters of _business_ were something else, though, and Iceland didn't envy Norway one bit if that was the reason he'd been over there.

Iceland didn't say anything; just reached over and gave Norway's hand a squeeze. No need to talk for now. He got the point.

They stayed quiet through the rest of the drive. It wasn't until they stepped into Iceland's house that either of them spoke.

"If you want to lie down, I–"

"No. Not yet. Put the coffee on, will you?"

Iceland frowned, glancing at Norway before moving to hang up his coat. "You don't want some sleep?" he asked, trying to hide the concern in his voice. Norway didn't look much better now than he had at the airport. Who wouldn't want to rest after all that?

"Slept on the plane."

Yeah right, Iceland thought. Sure you did. He didn't believe it at all. But by the firm set of Norway's eyes, and the stubborn look he gave Iceland before going to sink down on the couch, it was best not to speak his mind. Iceland knew that they were both sometimes way too stubborn, insistent on having things a certain way even when they knew better... but Norway, as far as Iceland saw it, was the worst between the two of them.

Oh, well. It was impossible to argue with him.

He put the coffee on, at Norway's insistence, then went to join him in the living room. After spending all morning tidying the place up, Iceland was sure it was presentable. But Norway was the kind of person who sprinkled well-meaning critical comments whenever he thought they were necessary, and he expected some of that. It wouldn't be his first time on the receiving end of Norway's nitpicking.

But no comments came. Nothing. Iceland sank down onto the sofa, and Norway flopped over to rest his head on Iceland's lap without a word.

"Wow," Iceland said, unable to believe it. "You really are exhausted." He slipped Norway's hair through his fingers, brushing his fringe out of his face.

Norway sighed under the touch, his eyes drifting shut. "Meetin' went like expected, is all. That guy's impossible."

"Oh?"

"Mmhm. An' his brother ain't much better, even if he likes to pretend he is."

"You met with both of them?"

"Aye. And what a colossal waste of time that was. Heads up their ass, the both of them, and gettin' worse. You'll see for yourself at the next Arctic Council meeting."

Iceland tilted his head, listening as he kept stroking Norway's hair. If Norway was going to direct his criticism at the North American brothers, he wasn't going to try to dissuade him. But hearing Norway talk about them like that was pretty novel; that meeting must have been more frustrating than expected. "I wonder if they think the same thing about us," he mused.

Norway let out a soft huff of a laugh. "Probably," he said. "Wouldn't be surprised."

"But there's no way we're as annoying as those two."

"'Course not. Still got a load of growing up to do, those 'uns." Blinking his eyes open, Norway looked up at Iceland for a moment. "Come down here, will you?"

By now, Iceland knew what Norway actually meant when he said something like that. And he also knew that it was a request, even if it didn't sound like one. But that was fine. 

He dipped his head, cupping Norway's cheek as he pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth.

The kiss was as soft and sleepy as Norway himself. Iceland let it linger a moment before breaking it, brushing another kiss to his forehead. You really need to get to bed, he thought.

Would Norway go if he insisted on it?

Probably not. He was the worst kind of stubborn. Not for the first time, Iceland found himself wishing he could throw Norway over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and haul him around wherever, no matter how much Norway would protest about that. But it was impossible. They were almost the same height. And Norway was the stronger of the two of them, and always had been. And –

"What's on your mind?" Norway murmured, sleepily kissing at Iceland's cheek.

"Um..." Iceland felt his face heating as a blush spread over it. There was no way he could lie; Norway always noticed when he did. Years of knowing each other had given Norway the uncanny ability to see right through him. But maybe he could put a different spin on it. "I... was wishing that I could sweep you off your feet?"

"That so."

"Yeah. I mean... you know, like, it would be really romantic and stuff."

Norway quieted for a moment. He reached up to touch Iceland's face, brushing the pad of his thumb over his cheek. "If ya' want to take me to bed, you just have to say so," Norway said, sounding way too amused about everything.

But I already asked you twice! Iceland thought, exasperated. "But..."

"I don't mind, y'know. It's been a while since we saw each other last, ain't it."

After a moment, Iceland realized what he meant.

He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. Sitting up properly, he stared down at Norway, unable to believe it. _Really_? he thought, raising an eyebrow.

Even though he didn't say it, he didn't have to. Norway just lifted an eyebrow right back, as if it was a perfectly normal suggestion. 

...Well. For Norway, maybe it _was_ a normal suggestion. 

Sometimes it was hard to tell with that guy.

"Not right now," Iceland said, blushing even more deeply from the whole ridiculous conversation.

"No?"

"No! I mean. You aren't serious, are you?"

"No." Norway sighed, sitting up. He swept his fingers through his hair. Closed his eyes for a moment as he thought things over. "But might be that you were right. Rest wouldn't be such a bad idea."

That's what I've been trying to tell you, Iceland thought. Somehow, he managed to keep the exasperation from showing on his face. "I'll wake you up in an hour or two. Okay?" he asked, leaning over to kiss Norway's cheek. "Have a nap for a while." And then maybe you won't be so weird, he thought.

"Fine, then. You win."

Finally.

* * *

Iceland nudged Norway toward the bedroom with as much insistence as he could manage. To his relief, Norway didn't complain much. He went without any more of that stubbornness, and let Iceland return to the kitchen to plan dinner.

Pouring himself a coffee, Iceland listened, and waited. First came the sound of the shower. Not long after that, he heard the click of the bedroom door closing. Norway made good on his word.

Finally, Iceland thought, more than a little bit relieved.

What had made Norway so clingy? Iceland tried to puzzle it out as he thumbed through his recipe books, distracted by the thought. It was true that Norway was always a little bit weird, and he certainly hadn't been any less weird toward Iceland since their relationship had become more... intimate. But this time was a bit different from the usual. Why?

Iceland paced around the kitchen, trying to think. Stopped and stared out the window for a bit, as if he might find an answer there, in the late afternoon sunlight. Nope.

Normally when Norway visited him, it wasn't after a trans-Atlantic flight. Hopping over from his own place to visit Iceland wasn't much of a bother. But coming from America? That was another thing altogether. Surely he would have wanted rest after that, but maybe more than that, he'd wanted company.

And then there was the meeting that he'd come from, the reason he'd been over there in the first place. There were some nations that Norway had lots of patience for, but America wasn't really one of them. Maybe now that he was here, he only wanted to spend some time close to someone that he understood better.

Chewing at his lower lip, Iceland decided that must be it. It made as much sense as anything else.

* * *

The afternoon sunlight spilled into the bedroom, partly obscured by the blind over the window. Iceland didn't bother turning on the lamp. Just stood in the doorway, hesitating, wondering if he should wake Norway.

Norway had tucked himself into bed. He'd changed clothes after the shower, throwing on some pyjamas. Damp, towel-mussed hair curled in waves as it dried.

As Iceland watched, Norway sighed, pulling the blanket more tightly around himself. So he wasn't properly asleep, then.

Silently, Iceland drifted over and sank down onto the edge of the bed. Norway's eyes fluttered, but didn't open.

"What time is it?" Norway murmured.

"A bit past five." Iceland reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from Norway's cheek, tucking it behind his ear. "We can have supper soon if you want? Or, um. You could sleep longer. It doesn't matter to me."

"Stay here for a bit, would you." 

Well, that wasn't really a proper answer, but fine. Iceland stayed, stroking at Norway's face, flushing a little as Norway turned his head to graze his lips against his fingertips.

"Downright foolish, I was." Norway's voice was soft, dozy. "Bein' like that."

"What?"

"Before. Earlier."

"Oh." Iceland thought about it, brushing his thumb over Norway's lips. "Well..."

"Well?"

"Yeah. A little foolish, I guess."

The soft huff of a laugh. A kiss to his knuckles, light and fleeting. "More than a little, I'd think."

Iceland didn't answer that. If Norway was willing to admit that he'd been annoying, then Iceland wasn't going to pretend otherwise. But that didn't mean he couldn't ask about it. "Why?"

"These last few days made me feel like I'm a million years old. Havin' a word with those two. Then the travel. And then when I saw you... well." Norway sighed, nuzzling at Iceland's hand. "Didn't want to be apart from you for even one blink."

Iceland could feel his insides twisting. There was something about the way he put it, the way Norway said it. Iceland knew what he meant. That need for closeness, to be near someone. He'd felt that way before. Plenty of times. Especially when it came to Norway. In that light, all the clinginess made perfect sense. "That's okay," he said softly. "I'm right here."

"Aye, that you are."

"And you aren't going anywhere. You're staying for a while, right?"

Norway's eyes finally cracked open, those deep blue eyes watching Iceland from behind long lashes. "I am," he said. "A week, if you'll have me."

There were times when Iceland would have thought a week would be way too much, no matter how close they were to each other. And there were even times when he might have said so.

This wasn't one of those times.

Bending down, he kissed Norway's cheek, then his lips. The kiss was lingering, soft, close.

Neither of them was going anywhere at all.


End file.
